


run away now like we're supposed to do

by an_ardent_rain



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Shippy Gen, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6433987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_ardent_rain/pseuds/an_ardent_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wonders when - if, he wonders if - he’ll see her again, if she’ll need him to tag along on another errand, for another story.  He’ll come, he thinks, if she asks nicely.</p>
<p>But for now, he's not going to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	run away now like we're supposed to do

**Author's Note:**

> -Written for a prompt on tumblr from classicalgirlinamodernworld, which was basically neck nuzzling. I... think I fulfilled that? Mostly? It's more neck smelling! Which I think sounds weirder here than it seems in the actual fic! 
> 
> I have no idea which fic or post or what called S2 Karen "intrepid girl reporter Karen" but that is also a thing I agree with and sort of a favorite place to write from? You don't actually need background for this, but she is investigating! She's gonna write an expose and take 'em down! Frank's activities seemed to maybe coincide so she asked him along! Think of him as a guard dog or something.
> 
> Title from dRuNk by Zayn Malik because hot damn that whole album is basically sex and all I can seem to write right now is smut or UST soooo.

Things go south.

And Karen shouldn’t have expected different, she should have known it was a set-up from the first niggling thought of “too-good-to-be-true.” But she’s here and there are three angry men hired to protect some money laundering shitbag with ties to something bigger than she has the energy to contemplate right now.

“Damn,” she mutters to herself. Her teeth clench and she peers around the large body standing in front of her. “Are they gone?”

Frank rolls his eyes. “Thought I told you to be quiet, ma’am.” Her eyes cut over to his and she gives him a hard look, her jaw set and her mouth turned down in a frown. “And still.”

Karen makes a dismissive sound and cranes her neck, ready to make another move to peer around the corner. Frank lifts his arms up on either side of her and places his palms flat against the wall. “Are they gone?” She asks again.

He exhales and she twitches as his breath hits her face. “Be quiet and listen,” he says. “You hear that?” They both stand perfectly still. Two faint, faraway voices are arguing and Karen’s shoulders slump. “They’re getting closer,” Frank says. “Like I told you before, I could just shoot them if - “

“No!” Karen hisses. She clenches her hands into fists around the leather strap of her bad, slung across her chest. “I thought I told you,” she says, her voice an angry rasp. “No punishing.”

Frank wonders, again, why he agreed to come with her. “They don’t call me the Punisher for nothing.”

“I know.”

He stretches his jaw until it clicks. “I really think I should just kill them.”

“I know Frank, but this is a huge story and we don’t know who Vargas is working with or for, and these men… working for him isn’t exactly a mark in their favor but.” Her eyes harden and her lips press together. She meets his gaze with a fierceness that has his spine straightening. “We don’t know that they deserve to die. And gunshots? If you’re so hell bent on hiding I don’t think gunfire’s really the best way to accomplish that.”

“You’re hiding,” he says, and gives her a shit eating grin as she glares. “I’m just the thing you’re hiding behind.” 

The voices get louder and a third joins them, close. Frank snaps to attention and his face goes blank, painted in hard lines. He steps closer to Karen, pressing her against the wall.

“What are you doing?” She asks, drawing her elbows in close to her sides, body tense. Anxious.

He’s as careful as he can be not to touch her, pressing close enough to shield her and still leave space between them. “Quiet,” he snaps, leaning down near her ear. Her hair is soft against his nose. “You hear that one? Loud. Laughing. Just joined the others.”

She nods, and he feels it against his face. He jerks his head a little, blows her hair out of the way. His voice gets softer. “I know him. Been on my radar for a while. And that fucker.” She draws in a breath and holds it. “He deserves to die.”

“Not now, Frank,” she says, quick, her voice a hot curl of air between them. “After - “

“After tonight. After your story. I know. Now shut the hell up.” She nods once and relaxes. He listens to the footsteps, the raucous sound of voices, the coughing and laughing and organic noises as the three men come closer. He leans in, just a little, as they approach. 

There’s a soft scent at her neck, something flowery and bright. He breathes it in before he can stop himself, smells the soft, floral heat at junction of her shoulder. His head swims and he steels himself, brings himself back into focus.. Fuck, she smells good, he thinks. She smells good and she’s warm and closed, tucked near his body, and it will take him less than a second to reach a gun, to shoot those fuckers talking about the blonde bitch from the paper in the chest, in the neck, right between the fucking eyes. He’s as aware of Karen as he is of the three bastards after her, as he is of the environment of the shitty old warehouse around them. He wonders why she bothered putting on fucking perfume before calling him out on this damn surveillance mission, or if maybe it lingers on her skin from earlier in the day.

Maria’s always did. Maria wore - 

Those bastards are getting close enough that she’s going tense again, her shoulders stiff, her body curling forward. His fingers itch for the weight of a gun and he lifts his head, shifts less than an inch forward - so close to her now he’s brushing the soft fabric of her blouse - and looks over. He made a guess that they wouldn’t be thorough enough to look near the out-of-the-way wall they’re pressed against and it looks like he was right. He’s almost disappointed but Page has a point; it’s not a good night. 

“Are they gone?” She asks again after a few long, silent moments. She sounds calm

Frank closes his eyes and listens. “Yeah,” he says. He steps away from her and she moves forward, peering around to check for herself. She pushes her hair behind her ear and the skin of her neck is pale and luminous in the dull light. “You got what you need?” She nods. “You done with me, then? I have some business to see to.”

Her smile is tight and the expression in her eyes is flat. “Yeah, I’m done. Thanks, Frank. I appreciate the help.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says. He wonders when - if, he wonders _if_ \- he’ll see her again, if she’ll need him to tag along on another damn errand for whatever bullshit story she’s trying to unravel. He’ll come, he thinks, if she asks nicely. The Punisher doesn’t have friends, but it might not hurt to have allies, and he might he damn lucky to know somebody like Karen Page. No point in burning that bridge again, not until he has to.

“I’m going to stick around,” she says, “just for a little while.”

“Don’t want to have to see you bloody on the morning news.”

“You won’t.” She adjusts her bag and looks up to meet his eyes. “I’ll see… Well.” She laughs, sounding nervous. Her mouth curves into half a smile as she looks at him and his hands curl into fists at his sides. “Take care of yourself, Frank. Maybe you'll stick around long enough for a cup of coffee next time.” 

He turns away from her. “Goodbye,” he says over his shoulder. He thinks it, that he’ll be around, that he will see her again, but he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t look back as he disappears, walking with heavy steps far, far away from her and the soft, warm scent that lingered at her neck.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sure you are all very interested in knowing that I chose Daisy by Marc Jacobs for the perfume Karen was wearing. I chose it because I like it and I only know like five perfumes, so. Also meta reasons! Ha ha ha ha. According to the Sephora product page, it is "fresh and feminine, with a playful innocence", "Sophisticated, with a touch of whimsy" and "Always elegant, always enchanting—but not too serious." I wanted something flowery and bright, something sweet. Something that would make Frank think of that "innocence" and even if he knows that it's not Karen's first rodeo, thoughts like that make it easier for him to put her on a pedestal, distance himself, walk away. That obviously didn't really make it into the fic that much, but if you wanted a reference for the scent... There you go! I spend way too much time on small details sometimes!
> 
> (Maria wore Chanel No 5 but Frank never remembered the name, just that she liked the classy shit in that one bottle, one small indulgence whenever she could afford to get it. Ha ha ha ha, it's just raining on my face ;_;)
> 
> Everyone was so nice about my first fic (which was just smut, whoops) that I want to write a thousand more fics. What a great little budding corner of fandom we have here. Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated, if you feel like giving 'em!
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://librarian-repellent.tumblr.com)


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